


Lá Breithe Shona Duit

by NewYorkNovelist



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe, BDSM, Bondage, F/M, French woman, Irish Man, Mild knife play, One Shot, Seven years war, Templars, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewYorkNovelist/pseuds/NewYorkNovelist
Summary: Despite being born on the day, September 12th was just an ordinary day for Shay Cormac.Annabelle Vasser has a plan, as she prepares to show Shay how much she means to her. he would remember that day for as long as he draws breath. Upon Shay's arrival to Fort Arsenal from the Finnegans, Annabelle shows a side of herself that Shay cannot resist.
Relationships: Shay Cormac/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Lá Breithe Shona Duit

**Annabelle Vasser**

**Location: Fort Aresnal**

**Date: September 12, 1758**

**1.**

Annabelle scattered the last of the rose petals into the warm water. The rose garden was the latest gift from her suitor in a line of thoughtful, affectionate displays. These few petals, a late fall bloom, were the last of her roses that blossomed. It was not lost upon her she used the last bounty as her own gift to that wooer.

As she smiled, she thought about how the roses symbolized their love and warmed to the comparison. When they were younger, in Tomar, Portugal, their affections blossomed early like snow drop flowers by early spring. Her suitor was just as young, and his earnest affections left little to be desired. He gave all of himself to her; she, to him.

Now that she reunited with him, their love blossomed once more, and while it held the same earnest passion, there was an unhurried quality to their romance. In only two-and-a-half years, their love aged like a fine wine, sweeter than any berries that one could pick off the vine. Annabelle wouldn’t have traded him for anything else. She was deeply in love.

She lit all five taper candles sitting upon the mantle. Their flickering flames reflected the blue-steel colored walls of the lavish bedchamber upon the side of the copper tub. Annabelle would be sure to show her gratitude for everything he did for her.

 **He should return soon.** When Shay Cormac and the Morrigan’s crew made port, he made it a point to always visit the family who had tended his injuries after the events that transpired at the Davenport Homestead and Lieutenant-Colonel Monro found him washed up on a beach two years ago. The elder couple nursed him back to health, but Shay wasn’t the only one indebted to the family. Death and destruction tied her to both Barry and Cassidy Finnegan.

Annabelle asked Cassidy to distract Shay with busy work. She was sure that the older woman could find something for him to do around her home. Barry was getting older, and he couldn’t fix their house when something was wrong anymore. Whenever Shay was in New York, he would offer to help. It didn’t hurt for Annabelle to see that gentler side of him.

She placed the two cigarettes she rolled earlier that day on the nightstand next to their bed. Since Annabelle reunited with Shay, she learned about his habits. Shay smoked after they were intimate. He always invited her to join him, but she never did. Annabelle, however, didn’t mind spoiling him.

“I’m sorry I’m late, _cuisle mo chroidhe_ ,” Shay called from the other room. “Cassidy sends her regards.”

She didn't answer him. She knew that would lure him right to her, as it did every time she wanted to summon him to her presence. He would always slip into the room, curious as to the reason for her silence. On queue, he did just that.

"Annie?" he called as he stepped into the bedchamber. "Did you hear me?"

" _Oui_ ," she mewed.

"What's all this?" he questioned.

"You are taking a bath." She gestured, summoning him to the bathwater. "Come, I will bathe you. While it's still warm."

"Roses?"

" _Oui_ ," she moaned, pulling at his clothing. She would not wait for him to undress himself. The water would be as frigid as the North Atlantic if she let him undress himself while asking his questions about everything else. "No more talk. Get in."

Annabelle unbuttoned his leather breeches and slid them over his hips and down his thighs. He gave into his curiosity and contemplated the reason behind her kind actions once more. She placed her index finger over the middle of his thin lips. “I thought I said to be silent, _le loup Irlandois_.”

Shay wound his arms around her and lowered his head. He brushed his lips across hers. The kiss didn't have the urgency of many of their other passionate embraces. It was the foundation, the groundwork for a more fiery outcome later. He smirked at her, a mischievous glint in his russet colored eyes.

Annabelle reached up, untied the ribbon holding his tight ponytail, and watched as his locks cascaded and swung against his shoulders. She had always thought he was a handsome man. Now was no different. Tonight would be a first of many new experiences for Shay.

"Is it our anniversary, and I forgot?" he laughed.

"No. I don't need a reason to lavish my attention upon you." She grasped his right hand and led him before the tub. He dipped one foot in the water, testing the temperature. "Quiet now. Let me bathe you."

Annabelle reached beside her to the stool to her left and picked up the sponge. She dipped it in the water beside his right thigh, but before she could lift her arm away from him, Shay wrapped his hand around her wrist. He still stared up at her, the gentleness she felt for him reflecting in his eyes.

“How would you know what is or is not a French thing?” she cooed.

“I avoided French lasses.”

“You didn’t, Shay. Not at all.” Shay was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes upon: her barrel-chested, dark chocolate brown haired Adonis. She held the porous sponge over his body and squeezed. Tiny streams of water trickled out and fell over his chest, sliding down his taut stomach.

Annabelle placed a steady hand on his shoulders and leaned down to him so her lips were inches away from his mouth. “In fact, when we first met, I bedded you within a fortnight.”

“Through no actions of your own. You spent most of the time denying what you wanted, but you underestimated two things.” He grasped her waist with his dripping hands. The water soaked her linen shirt. “I might have believed you to be Portuguese at first, but as we were battering, I knew you were not.”

“And the second?” Annabelle breathed, the words barely passing before her lips.

“I make my own luck.” He crashed his lips into hers, and with a jerk, he pulled her to him. Water splashed over the tub’s lip and puddled onto the hardwood flooring.

Annabelle was dangerously close to losing control, going faster than she wanted. She wanted to draw this out, to extend the pleasure that Shay was going to receive throughout the night. His actions threatened that plan, pushing her dangerously close to abandoning her plans. She was stronger than that though. In that way, she was stronger than him. She pulled away.

"Not tonight," she instructed. "Tonight, I make the luck. You are at my mercy."

"Oh?"

" _Oui_ , now stand."

The water cascaded over the angles and planes of his body, streaming back down into the tub, as he stood in all his glory before her. She bit her lip in anticipation.

"Sit in that chair," she commanded. When he did, she pulled a long, thin strap of fabric from the table beside her and looped it over his head, blindfolding him. She stood back for a moment, simply admiring him before approaching again.

Annabelle kissed him, gently, on the lips. As he tried to kiss her again, she moved, kissing his neck. She planted a trail of kisses over his chest, his abdomen, and she stopped near enough to his excited arousal that she was sure he could feel the heat of her breath.

"Trust me?" she breathed in little more than a whisper.

He tilted his head down to look at her. The blindfold concealed his eyes from her, but she didn’t need to see them to feel the excitement building in Shay. Still, she stared up at him, marveling at the anticipation written upon his countenance. As he leaned forward, strands of his hair fell against his face and brushed against the red ribbon obscuring his vision.

“Annie,” he moaned, the words the only sound within their quarters. The hustle and bustle of Fort Arsenal wouldn’t penetrate their sanctuary. She made sure of that. Paying the estate guards an extra allowance that week freed them for extra whoring and booze, and the few servants Shay brought in after he liberated the Templar headquarters would not dare to bother them. Shay would remember this evening far into the future. It would keep him warm on those freezing nights.

 **I need him inside me,** Annabelle thought. When they made love, Shay fulfilled every desire. There was a need to rush the experience, to take him within her. The entire time he was with Cassidy, she envisioned everything she would put him through that night. She needed to cool down and pace herself. Their night wouldn’t end so soon. Annabelle planned this night for months — long before they made port.

Annabelle leaned forward. She touched the tip of her tongue to his shaft, licking up his length, and he jumped at the contact, rolling his head and letting loose a low guttural groan. He cradled her head. Even with his vision impaired, Shay knew right where she was. His fingers slipped through her long hair.

Her tongue glided along his glans. His cockhead glistened with her saliva in the low candlelight. Shay groaned once more. She never showed this side of herself to him. When they were intimate, Annabelle had always deferred to him. Tonight, he would be the one to submit.

"Jaysus, Annie," Shay gasped, his words filling the cool air, and it was all he could manage. She responded by taking him into her mouth entirely. She bobbed her head, slowly at first, sucking slightly. His skin tasted of the rose water she had bathed him in, but there was a musk beneath that made her want to devour him.

She brought a hand up, clutching the thick shaft of his cock as she moved her head. Her hand stroked in rhythm, and Shay's hips quickly matched that rhythm, seemingly automatically. She sucked on him greedily, wanting him to give her his seed. She hungered for it, but she knew it would take more than this to get him off.

He grunted again, and she regained her self control. She stopped.

"Don't think it's going to be that easy, Shay Cormac," she said, her voice full of authority. "You're going to earn your release tonight. Remember, good things _come_ to those who wait."

Annabelle stood up and dusted off her knees. After she reached for his hand, Annabelle led him to the bed. She would not keep him waiting, and she would not allow him to finish too early. In those years Annabelle was with him, Shay became the world to her. He was the only one who understood what she went through.

With her guidance, Shay climbed up into the bed. She pushed him onto his back, but she was gentle enough not to jar him.

She straddled his thighs, knew exactly the fire she lit in him, and pressed herself down upon his crotch. Shay groaned once more. She reached to the nightstand and grabbed the length of rope she absconded from _the Morrigan_. Leaning down, with her lips against his ear and the piece of rope in her right hand, she murmured, "Do you still trust me, _le loup Irlandois_?"

"You know I do," he promised. He was looking straight at her, even with his eyes blindfolded. It was jarring for a moment, but she remembered that he had gifts. He probably could see her, but he had been resisting using his vision to this point. Shay was never one to spoil her fun. "I trust you more than myself sometimes."

"Stop cheating," she scolded. "No using the vision."

"Yes, ma'am," he quipped. She didn't give him the satisfaction of a response or reaction to those words. She only set about tying his wrists to the bedframe of the poster bed. Still striding him, she reached for one of the lit paraffin pillar candles on the nightstand.

Without saying a word, she tipped it, dribbled a small spot of hot wax onto above the rope securing his hands to the bed. When he didn’t protest, Annabelle dripped a trail of hot bluish-white wax across his chest. Shay hissed and pulled against the restraints.

"Jaysus, Annie!" he growled. "What was that for?"

Annabelle leaned forward and ran her tongue over his right nipple, winding around the rigid stud as the wax hardened upon him.

Shay let out a puff of air and clenched his hands. He tilted his head back into the pillow he rested on.

Her tongue swirled around his skin, teasing the erect flesh, and when his body writhed beneath her, she bit him, prompting him to thrash against his bonds. He grunted her full first name, one of the few times in the years she knew him that it passed his lips. She knew then it was torture for him.

 **It is only right.** He visited the same pleasure on her — only Shay drew it out longer. She was determined to drive him crazy.

She sat back up, pressed down upon him once more, turned the candle, and dripped more wax. He hissed and jerked. A thin smile spread across her lips. She knew he could feel her wetness on top of him. He would know how much this excited her.

Leaning over the side, Annabelle set the candle down and picked up a dull dagger. Annabelle found it lying around Fort Arsenal’s armory. She would have lectured him about maintaining weapons if she hadn’t found a use for it.

The wax continued to cool on his chest as she bent over him again. Her fingers brushed the various scars on his chest as she ran the flat of the blade over his skin. She gazed over the small puckered marred flesh — the evidence of the Brotherhood’s betrayal.

She continued scraping the wax away, careful to not harm him with the blade, but she let him feel it. He would know it was a blade slipping across his flesh.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he muttered. She didn't answer. She just continued to clean the dried wax from his chest. "Was that a product of your own devious mind?"

"You've been very patient, _le loup Irlandois_ ," she whispered. She set down the knife. She had been patient too. "I told you good things would come, and now it is time for you to be rewarded. Would you like your reward, my love?"

"Do I need to tell you that? You know I would."

Without another word from either of them, she reached down beneath herself and wrapped her hand around his shaft. She lowered herself, guiding him into her pussy inch by inch, until she sat over him filled completely. This was what she had waited for, what drove her, what she longed for throughout this entire encounter. It was a reward to them both.

She lifted herself and dropped down again, and again, moving in a rhythm that couldn't last, but by his moans, Shay was happy to go fast at this point. She wanted to feel him explode inside her, to match that to her own climax, to crest the apex of pleasure together.

Putting a hand on his chest, she looked down at him. His expression was strained; she knew that he was close. He better be, she thought, because she was, too.

" _Mon Dieu_!" she cried, as the throes of orgasm passed over her. Her pussy gripped tightly onto Shay's driving shaft, beckoning him to join her. His face contorted, and she could feel the warmth of his seed spreading out inside her. That feeling only brought her pleasure to new heights, and she collapse in spasms on Shay's chest.

Both of them lay breathless for a long time, neither one saying a word. This was the way it had always been between them, from their first night in Tomar until now.

Annabelle sat back up. After she untied the ribbon from his head, she freed his hands from the bedframe. She reached over to the nightstand, retrieving the last item: a small jar of aloe vera. She dipped her fingers into the container and scooped out a translucent gold gob. Spreading it over the places where the wax cooled upon his chest, she felt his breath beneath her fingertips.

Annabelle slid off of him and lay beside him. They held each other and took comfort in the other’s embrace. She stroked his face and ran her hand over the stubble blanketing his jaw. Shay was the first to break the silence.

"That makes my birth day worth celebrating," he laughed.


End file.
